


Blood

by KateKintail



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Series, Promptember
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 16:27:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20709050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: Xander brings Spike a snack.





	Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 20 of Promptember 2019

Xander took the mug from the microwave and, cupping it with both palms, carried it down the hall and over to where Spike sat, pouring over several old volumes written in languages only he knew. He hadn’t always been the researchy type, but he respected old writings enough to wave Xander away. “Don’t want to drip on any of the pages. I’ll have that later.” He kept his pale face down, his head bent over his work, as if it were a life and death matter and not just cataloging spells and demon sightings from hundreds of years ago.

“No,” Xander looked down at the mug, at the cow’s blood already starting to congeal. “You’ll drink it now ‘cause it’s warm now.” 

“So are you,” Spike insisted, turning in his seat at the desk and pulling Xander onto his lap. “And you don’t see me wanting to drink you.” The half-vampire wrapped his arms around the mortal and snuggled him close. “Mmmmm, you smell good, though. Like clover and sweat and… chocolate chip cookies?” 

“Someone baked cookies. They’re in the kitchen.” 

“And you didn’t bring me one?” Spike started to shift Xander off so he could stand up to go get one himself. 

But Xander relaxed his body against Spike’s, making himself heavier and harder to push away. “No human food until you drink your blood.” God, he sounded like his mother ordering him to eat all his vegetables.

Spike pouted. “Couldn’t just get me a cookie to dunk in my mug, luv?”

Xander thought for a second. “Will that get you to actually drink it?” 

Spike nodded. Making promises had always been easy for Spike; he never held himself to keeping them. 

The problem was, Xander knew that about him. Xander knew far too much about him. “Fine. Drink half. Then I’ll reheat the rest and get you a cookie.”

Spike swore softly into Xander’s shoulder and kissed his way across Xander’s back. Xander knew it was a distraction, but it was a welcome one. A tiny shiver of anticipation traveled up Xander’s spine, and he closed his eyes, feeling Spike’s hands’ on his arms and Spike’s lips on the back of his neck. Xander couldn’t deny this felt good. So good, in fact, he almost dropped the mug, abandoning it to be replaced with sex. They could make love right here beneath the desk, losing themselves to the passion, to each other. 

Then Spike coughed. 

Xander went rigid. He jumped up, whirling around, turning on his lover. “The fuck?” A look of alarm on his face, he thrust the mug at Spike, pushing it into his chest with probably more force than was necessary. “Drink.” 

“M’not getting ill again, luv. It was just a little tickle in my—” 

“_Drink!_” Xander said in a tone that clearly implied that if Spike didn’t swallow a mouthful of blood right fucking now, Xander was going to use all his military training knowledge to hold Spike down and pour it right down his throat. 

Reluctantly, Spike took the mug from him. He hesitated a moment, lips touching the ceramic edge for a moment as he tried to think of some way out of this. But Xander loomed in front of him, fists at his sides. Spike had used up all his excuses. So Spike drank. He choked on the first mouthful and tried to hand the mug back to Xander as he coughed and sputtered dramatically and tried to regain composure, tried to buy himself just a little more time. 

But Xander had lost his patience and pulled back, making Spike deal with it himself. After that, there was no reason to be dramatic. Getting it over with as quickly as possible, Spike took a deep breath, let it out, and then resignedly chugged as much as he could as fast as he could. 

When Spike was finished, he dropped the mug on the desk and wrapped his arms around his stomach, hunching forward. 

Swiftly, Xander moved in, kneeling beside Spike’s chair. He put his hand on Spike’s stomach and rubbed it reassuringly. “It’s okay. You’re okay,” he murmured. Spike shook his head, unable to speak, but there was panic in his expression. “Don’t get sick. Please, Spike, please keep it down this time.” 

Spike’s lips were pursed, tears welled in his eyes, and his body convulsed, getting ready to heave. 

Instead of reaching for the nearby trashcan, Xander launched forward into a kiss. The taste of coppery blood was still on Spike’s lips, and Xander tried not to think about it, not wanting to get sick himself. He wrapped his arms around Spike’s body, willing it to relax, to remember that vile as drinking blood was, there was still half of him that needed it to stay alive and healthy. Xander felt a tear escape down one cheek, then the other. He wasn’t sure if they were Spike’s tears or his own. Xander deepened the kiss, trying to both distract and relax his lover. 

It worked. Spike withdrew his arms. Tension left his body. He was in control of himself again. And there was color in his face once more. “I….” Spike started then shook his head and restarted. “I believe you owe me a chocolate chip cookie.” 

Xander smiled. “I’ll get you two.” He gave Spike another kiss, collected the drained mug to get it out of sight, and headed back down the hall toward the kitchen.


End file.
